


End Of Days

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Walking Yggdrasil [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Muspelheim, Ragnarok, Sex Magic, Yggdrasil - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-20 22:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9519776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: It's the end of the world as they know it, and Loki feels terrible.





	1. The Worst of Times

Wanda's vision was fragmented, as most scrying attempts by beginners were. She had seen an impenetrable darkness, the suggestions of eyes and mouths and teeth, of grasping hands and invisible threads tied around throats. She had seen the end of all things, fire and destruction, immense creatures made entirely of flames reaching out for Avengers Tower. Behind them, the sky was nothing but ashes, a silvery web traced out inside the sky. The pattern wasn't the same as what she had seen when she walked Yggdrasil to speak with the Norns, though she couldn't have explained how it was different. It was simply a sense that she had, that the tracings were changed somehow, that it wasn't the same plan that they had.

She reached out across the ashen sky, as if she was going to grasp the flaming hand of the immense creature. Its hand was the same size as her own, even as the looming shape obliterated the rest of her sight. It was above her, darkness for eyes and its gaping mouth, and when it took her hand she didn't burn. She should have burned to cinders, but the creature's mouth pulled back into something like a smile of recognition. _Sister,_ it seemed to say.

 _You have no name,_ she told it, sadness in her voice. _Would you take Pietro?_

The creature laughed. _A speedster? And what else is as fast as fire?_ Its amusement grated, and after a moment it seemed to understand that her grief wasn't too far below the surface for her. _You loved a Pietro._

Nodding, she disengaged her hand gently. _My brother. Died saving a life. Senseless. He should have been faster than those bullets._

Contemplating that, the creature nodded. Its body was immense, taking up the entirety of her visual field, and Wanda had the sensation of its fire spreading as fast as Pietro used to run. Her breath caught, memories tickling the back of her mind. Then there was the press of the web, of the changing threads of the _wyrd,_ the looming presence of _something_ behind her, slithering, hissing, waiting for the opportunity to strike once she turned her head.

So Wanda progressed forward, into the density of the webbing, feeling it press into her face, forcing her eyes shut. Her arms spread wide at her sides, it tangled up the sticky threads. Still she pushed forward, into the thick of it, the threads growing thicker and rough, like branches in a forest, twigs biting and ripping at her skin. Her flowing blood smoothed the way, dripped down the tangled threads and branches. Though her eyes were closed, she knew that the drops of blood hitting the ground were beginning to bloom, scarlet blossoms with the heady and cloying scent of death and decay. It was like a whisper, _come to me, it's time, come with me, it's time to turn back, this isn't where you belong._

But if she stopped moving, she would be trapped. This far inside the webbing, she would be outside the burning lands as the realms went up in ashes and smoke. If she was outside of the cycle, she wouldn't be part of it. Those Who Sit Above In Shadows couldn't make use of her if they decided to turn their attentions to Midgard, but she wouldn't be able to exert any influence, either. She had to cut the threads yet still be part of her realm when it was born again.

This had all happened before, and it would all happen again. The release of energy would be staggering, would be universe-rending, universe-building, and all the potentials of the infinite would be there for the taking.

Then she had woken from her scrying, blood dripping from her nose, her ears ringing, the sensation of razor sharp threads in a fine netting all over her body.

Loki shivered as she spoke of her vision, arms wrapped tightly around himself. She didn't understand it, didn't know what she had seen, what the creature of fire and ash was. It wasn't her mythology, wasn't of the stories she had grown up with. Roma had different tales, and the Jewish tradition didn't have stories close enough to this.

These were tales of Asgard, corrupted by the Nordic people of Earth. But of this, they had gotten most of it correct.

Ragnarok.

***

"Okay, I for one am tired of the end of the world bullshit that seems to come 'round every few years," Clint announced in the conference room. "Magic _sucks."_

Loki's interpretation of Wanda's scrying had only confirmed everyone's fears. Wanda appeared miserable, sorry she had even done the spell, and Loki's shoulders were sloped downward in exhaustion and worry.

"There are no stories of Those Who Sit Above In Shadow," Thor began, frowning. He traced a random pattern on the table in front of him, agitation rising. "But there were stories of Ragnarok from when we were children. Warning tales. What you would tell children in the nursery to have them behave for fear of bringing on the end times."

"I think we can all agree that these tales all have something based in fact," Natasha said quietly, hands folded neatly in her lap. She didn't look up from the table at first, but then looked up with a wry smile. "We hadn't thought any of you were real. Or Asgard. Or Yggdrasil or the Norns. The gems all seemed like a fairy tale, but Thanos was very real, and the risk he posed with the Infinity Stones was very real. Why shouldn't this?"

"I don't discount it," Thor murmured, shaking his head. "It's not that. It's that the stories say there is no way to stop it. Ragnarok is the end times. There is no avoiding the end of all creation, no matter what the heroes try to do. Earthquakes, deaths, vile portents... The Aesir die, as do those of the other realms. All is consumed, all is destroyed."

"No story says how to avert such catastrophe," Loki said in a quiet voice. "I believe it's because no one had ever tried before."

"Guess it's a good thing we're all too stubborn to know when to quit, and that the Sokovian Accords were repealed about a year after they were signed," Sam muttered.

"They are creatures," Loki said quietly, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Powerful, yes, but not of our dimension, and not attached to Yggdrasil. They feed from it like parasites."

"I guess that makes us the insect repellent, huh?" Steve asked.

"Did you just make a joke?" Clint snarked. "I thought that was my job."

Natasha smacked his arm without changing expression before anyone else could. "Ragnarok might be just a warning. This is what could happen if we fail."

Loki looked at her, a faint pleasurable hum in his chest. If _we_ fail. He wasn't alone in all of this. This wasn't his worry to bear alone.

"But if it's a warning, then it means either someone saw something, like with scrying," Clint reasoned, "or it's happened before."

All eyes swiveled toward him as he leaned backward. "You're thinking of this all as forward movement," he continued. "Everything going to a final point." For emphasis, he took the pen that was sitting in front of Sam and whipped it at the wall. Its tip embedded in the plaster, the entire pen shaking from the force of impact. "Look at that. Eventually, it's going to stop moving, all of that kinetic energy spent. If those creatures are feeding on that energy, they're not going to want it to stop. You don't kill all off all of your cattle just because you're in the mood for a feast. No, you make sure you cull the herd but keep it going."

Thor looked vaguely ill. "You believe we're their herd."

"That's how they're using us, sounds like," Clint said, a firm edge to his voice. "And we all know on Earth, the surest way to ensure that something never goes extinct is to eat it."

"Then this happened before," Steve murmured. "Maybe not the exact same way, but the world would have begun and ended countless times. The amount of energy coming from a collapsing star is immense. I can't even begin to think about a whole galaxy of them. Or a universe full."

"So there's a way to restart it all at the end of things," Wanda said, her voice a faint whisper. "This had all happened before, this will all happen again," she said, looking at Loki as the words from her scrying vision came back to her. "If I cut the threads apart, I will be left out of the cycle and cannot be born again."

They all fell silent, contemplating that.

"I like who I am now," Loki said abruptly. Thor looked at him curiously, but Loki studiously ignored him. "Not the path to get to this place, but in this moment, I am content. I will _not_ suffer the indignities it took to get to this place again."

Natasha unfolded her hands and dropped one onto his thigh to give it a squeeze of support. "This is magic and monsters. The rest of us never trained for something like that, even after I came back with stories of magic in the galaxy."

"Brother," Thor said, leaning forward with an eager expression. "Would you teach the rest of us what we can do to aid you in this quest?"

Once upon a time, Loki would have given anything in the universe to hear those words from Thor's lips. He would have reveled in them, crowed in his superiority.

He felt tired and aching, almost lost. It wasn't a numb feeling, but the emptiness in his chest seemed to recede a little. He wasn't useless, he wasn't unwanted.

In this place, in this time, he was _worthy._

Natasha was right, the Norns had a plan for him, and he had simply been too blind to see it before. He hadn't been capable, had been too blinded by his jealousy and inadequacy. Having been through several crucibles, much of that had been burned away.

Loki lifted his hands and saw curls of green magic flames twist up from his open palms. "In this, I cannot guide any of you. You haven't the gift of _seidr._ But there are other things that can be done. It isn't entirely about _seidr_ or _galdr_ or even the _spá._ I don't know what Those Who Sit Above In Shadows are made of, that they can feast upon lives and magic and entire realms. But we have seen a shape," he said, looking at Wanda. The flickering magic on his left palm suddenly died as he turned it to face them. "And this scared them."

Thor frowned at the runic scar on his palm. "They are scared of light?"

His lips twitched in an ironic smile. "Light that _I_ carry. Me, the darkest of all practitioners Asgard had ever seen, yet I am the light that can save Yggdrasil."

"Sometimes you need to see the darkness first," Natasha said softly, squeezing his thigh again. "That way, you can appreciate the light when you see it."

"I am not _good,_ but I am good at what I do," Loki told Thor.

The Asgardian nodded. "Then the ones that should fear are Those Who Sit Above In Shadows."

***

"The ghosts are hungry," Loki told his reflection. It smiled at him, teeth razor sharp and jagged, too long for its mouth. Those lips stretched wide, too wide for the thin face, almost too gaunt to be Loki's. Its eyes were hollow, too deeply set in the face, bloodshot and brimming with bloody tears. His blood ran cold as he watched the pointed tongue come out of those parted lips, licking them and catching some of the pouring blood.

It wasn't his. This couldn't be his future. This couldn't be _him._ He was _trying,_ he was changing, the Norns had put him on Midgard at this time because he was worthy of their attention. He could protect this realm from magical threats. He could push aside Those Who Sit Above In Shadows. He could save Natasha, keep her with him for as long as the Time Gem's changes allowed.

He refused to believe he would lose this fight. Losing was not an option, never was.

"They will continue to go hungry," he told his reflection.

The skeletal creature with sharp teeth, hollow eyes and a shock of wild black hair laughed at him, no longer even trying to facilitate the illusion of a reflection. "We shall see, little Trickster," it laughed, its voice like the grating of stone on metal. "I've already had a taste of your soul, and I desire the rest of it."

"Never," he hissed, hand thrust forward toward the creature's neck before he realized what he had meant to do. There was a knife in hand, the silver athame with runes in the blade as well as the hilt, but none were the _sól._ He lifted his left hand and forearm, where the scar was red and raised on his palm and forearm. Even as he watched, the skin painlessly and soundlessly split open. Light poured out, white-bright and of heat so intense that the silver blade glowed red.

The creature hissed in pain and threw up bony hands, the skin stretched so tight that Loki could see every tendon, every withered bit of muscle. The glowing silver knife parted the parchment thin skin easily, making black blood pour from the wound. It bubbled and smoked under the light of the _sól_ and doubled _sól,_ but Loki felt no joy in its defeat.

It smoked and bubbled, burned without flame and was reduced to nothing but ichor and ash.

Only then did the rune scars seal, trapping the light inside of it again. His athame cooled to ordinary rune-spelled silver.

Loki felt hollowed out and empty, as if his soul had been shredded or scooped out of him.

And then he woke.

***

Natasha cradled Loki as he shivered violently. She brought his left hand up to her lips, tracing the edge of the scar with her tongue. That didn't stop his shivers, but it seemed to anchor him into the present. "I've got you," she murmured. The soothing tone didn't seem to get through to him, so she tightened her grip on his arms. _"Stop,"_ she commanded in her best Tsarina voice, running her lower lip along the scar. "Listen to my voice."

Loki looked at her, a vulnerable expression on his face. "I'm trying." His breath was shaky, and he twisted in her grip so that he could press his ear to her breast, her steady heartbeat beneath him. "I don't know what to do. Natasha, I can't tell the others. I can't. I don't know what to do."

She nodded. "Think of what you _do_ know. Start there."

"I have you."

Her lips curled into a smile. "You do," she said quietly, and pressed her lips to the top of his head as she stroked his back. "What else?"

"I can't lose you."

"Aside from me, what do you know?"

Loki swallowed uneasily. "The Norns are relying on me to save Yggdrasil." Another shudder ran through him. "It has to do with the _sól_ and doubled _sól,_ on my arm, but I can't remember now what it does, why it would be so powerful."

"It's light. And sun, you said."

"Yes," he murmured, tightening his grip on her.

"So of course it would drive away shadows."

"It can't be that simple."

Natasha chuckled. "True things rarely are. But I would think those markings are a weapon of some kind. You'd have to be able to use it against Those Who Sit Above In Shadows."

Twisting his head a little, he pressed a kiss to the nightshirt above her breasts. "I don't know if I could burn the ties they have to all creatures."

"You haven't found them on us," Natasha commented, running her fingers through his hair. "And if you take Wanda's vision into account, it's some kind of webbing that has to be cut."

Loki held very still. "Webbing. There's something in that that reminds me..."

 _"Sleep,"_ Natasha insisted, swatting his shoulder. "If you run yourself ragged, you won't be able to figure it out. You get desperate and sloppy without rest."

"I would rather a different kind of sleep," Loki replied, cupping a breast and rubbing the nipple with his thumb.

"Stop deflecting," she chided, making no move to push his hand away.

Moving swiftly, he hovered over her and pinned her down to the mattress beneath him. "No, Natasha. This is not a deflection. Or do you think me so tainted with _argr_ that I am unable to be a true lover at this time?" Something glittered in his eyes, dark and dangerous, the predator beneath his skin hovering beneath the surface.

"You're not tainted," she said quietly, not perturbed in the slightest. "You're without a direction. A blade without a target."

He pressed his hips against hers. "Are you my sheath?" he leered.

She could see the desperation mingled in with the predatory gaze. He was truly without direction, and the thought of _not knowing_ and being helpless was terrifying to him. It had added to his need to lash out in the past, and would likely twist him away from the progress he'd made to this point.

So she hooked one leg around his waist and gave him a sultry smile. "Care to find out?"

Loki lunged down to kiss her savagely. She could almost taste his fear, that needling edge of _not good enough,_ the fear that everything he allowed himself to care about would be destroyed and he could do nothing to stop it.

Using his magic, Loki kept Natasha's wrists pinned down to the bed. He pushed at her nightshirt with his hands, then broke their kiss in frustration when the movement was too awkward. Kneeling between her legs, he spoke a harsh word that turned out to be a disappearing spell. Her nightshirt simply vanished, leaving her bare to his gaze.

"Convenient," she purred, lip still curling in the way that set his blood on fire.

Slipping one hand between her thighs, he traced her folds. The other hand cupped a breast, pinching and rolling her nipple between his fingers. "Is this deflection, Natasha?" he asked, voice icy and harsh.

Natasha only laughed, arching into his touch. "Of course it is. The best kind."

That didn't mollify him, so he pinched her nipple harder than she liked. That earned him a kick to the backside with her heel, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you need the Tsarina?" she asked him coolly.

He blinked at her, then withdrew his hands and magic. His entire body seemed to curl in on itself even though he otherwise didn't move. "I don't know," he admitted after a moment.

"Not all touch has to be sexual," she murmured, reaching up to caress his bare stomach and chest. "But it _is_ fun," she added with a smile. "And you respond so nicely to my touch."

Loki looked up from her stomach to her eyes. "Weakness," he said softly.

"Attachment," she corrected.

"I am not... I cannot..." He growled in frustration, unable to find the words.

Reaching between their bodies, Natasha massaged his cock through his sleep pants and underwear. "You are. You can. You _will._ Whatever needs to be done, however distasteful it might be. Because you understand the risks if you don't better than we ever would."

There was something like longing in his gaze, even if he didn't ask _Do you really think so?_ like a frightened child. He grasped a hip with one hand, and slid his other hand along the side of her torso, a reverent touch.

"You believe that," Loki began slowly. His hand continued up until he could cup a breast. "I can sometimes. But sometimes I cannot."

"Because if you believe it, if it's true, then you have to do something about it," Natasha murmured, running her nails along the burgeoning length of him. "If you do something about it, there's the possibility of failure. Loki, I _know_ what that's like. I _know_ how it feels, how the fear of failure can be paralyzing. How you'd be willing to be a better monster if only no one else could see the fear."

"You've never seen me as a monster, have you?"

"No," Natasha agreed. "In the beginning, you were a megalomaniac I had to take down."

"And now?"

She reached into his sleep pants and caught his cock in her hand, wry smile in place. "You tell me, Loki. How do you think I feel?"

His breath caught at the contact, and he squeezed her breast. "You're cheating by asking me."

Her laughter was a throaty, sultry purr. "Did you think I would give you _everything_ easily? Really?"

"I could take that not-answer as an answer."

"You could," Natasha replied, amused. "But you don't like being given uncertain answers."

"No," he replied. "But you cannot give me an answer, can you?"

Natasha's smile was fairly genuine, as far as he could tell. "You have something more important, you know. If you couldn't tell."

Loki ran both hands along the slope of her breasts. "I have your trust." He smiled faintly. "A truly worthy gift from you."

Her hand moved along his cock, beginning to take up the rhythm that he liked so well. "I'm glad you realize it."

Dropping down to his elbows, Loki braced his weight on either side of her body so that he could kiss her. She still moved her hand between them rhythmically, and her other ran up and down his back in a caress. He flicked his tongue out to trace the seam of her lips, and she obligingly opened her mouth to him. Loki's kiss turned into a hungry devour, as if he wanted to steal the very breath from her lungs. Natasha responded in kind, her breasts rubbing against his chest, and her strokes tight and rapid. He shook in her arms a little, less violently than when he had woken from the dreams, and this time in pleasure.

She didn't slow until he spilled over her fist, pumping his slick seed into his underwear like a youth bedding a woman for the first time. Loki didn't care, still kissing her hungrily. He flicked his magic out to fondle her breasts, making her gasp and arch further against his chest.

"You're gonna have to get me ready," Natasha said, gasping as the magic curled around her skin and kneaded her body in a sensual manner.

"Gladly," he replied, pulling his mouth away from her.

The magic continued to curl and press around her, sliding between her legs. One tendril stroked her clit, and a larger one filled her completely. "Cheater," she gasped.

Loki laughed in response. "You never said _how_ I should ready you..."

Natasha didn't reply, but bit her lip to keep from crying out. The magic teased her mercilessly, and she rode the edge of orgasm as Loki removed his sodden sleepwear. Additional threads of magic curled around her wrists and pressed them back down into the bed, but her legs were free. She saw his intent as he grasped her thighs and knelt between her legs. She was wet and aching, close to release, but not about to beg for it.

He plunged deeply into her, making her groan in pleasure. She couldn't move, pinned down as she was, and Loki held her in place as he thrust in and out in a steady, fast rhythm. Natasha bit down on her lip hard enough to taste blood, and she groaned. She was so close...

Her strangled scream of release made Loki shudder in pleasure. Maybe he felt the magic pulsing around his cock inside her, maybe the sound of his pumping turned him on. Either way, he came again, his breath in short gasps, and the magic pressing around her abruptly stopped as he lost his concentration. Natasha reached up and pulled him down for a kiss. He didn't seem to mind the blood on her lips, the coppery tang of it on their tongues.

They lay tangled up on the bed, sweaty and sticky, his head tucked in the crook of her neck, his hands on her wrists to keep her beneath him. She probably could have still flipped him onto his back, straddled him and ground down over his cock if she wanted to. This was actually pleasant, the feel of him on top of her, knowing that he trusted and needed her so completely.

Instead of asking for further reassurance, Loki slowly released her wrists and trailed his fingers along the inside her wrists and then arms. "You are a warrior," he said quietly.

"I suppose I am," she agreed. "Trained a spy first, though."

"That will be useful in the coming war," he continued softly. "If magic is not enough."

"Those are creatures of magic. You're going to be more useful."

He fell silent and let her run her fingers down his spine in a caress.

"This is talk of cycles and the universe coming to an end, of creatures from another plane of existence feeding off of Yggdrasil," Natasha murmured, continuing to stroke him. Loki closed his eyes and concentrated on the husky sound of her voice, on the feel of her fingers. "Once you're rested, you'll find the way to break the cycles." She chuckled softly. "You're very good at breaking the things you don't like, Loki. Use it to your advantage."

Though he didn't see the humor in it, he echoed her chuckle. "I suppose I'm good for something after all. The Norns think I'm worthy of this."

Natasha nipped his earlobe. "And so do I."

Maybe it was deliberate on her part, but Loki still grasped the words tightly and let his soul sing with the praise. He was good enough, he was worthy, _he could do this._

Loki would save the world for her. And maybe for him, too.

***  
***


	2. Unspeakable Magic

Days of tearing through scrolls and texts and devouring Wanda's notes brought Loki no closer to a solution. He didn't know how to find an entry to the dimension where Those Who Sit Above In Shadows lived, let alone how to defeat him. There were the rune scars, but how to trigger them volitionally still escaped him.

There were some references to _unspeakable magicks,_ which were frustrating in the extreme. By their very nature, they weren't referenced, described or alluded to in further detail. He had done blood magic before, so that couldn't be it. Of course, the spells he had cast with blood were small and rather crude compared to dimension ripping, but it wasn't so taboo and able to be discussed in texts.

Natasha directed him to her sitting room handed him a mug of green tea. The warmth of the tea was a bit calming, but didn't otherwise help him think. She sat down next to him with a mug of her own, sipping at it delicately. Loki watched the way her lips moved as she blew off the steam and sipped, the way her throat moved. A spike of _want_ moved through him, and he thought perhaps he understood what the unspeakable magic might be.

"Would you..." He licked his lips almost nervously. "Even amongst the practitioners on Asgard, there are some magicks not well accepted."

"Blood magic?" She grinned at his start of surprise. "For a culture so steeped in war and battle, they're amazingly squeamish about magic and blood and touch."

"Sex magic," Loki said quietly. "I wish to try a casting I have not done before. I don't know if any Asgardians have ever attempted such a thing, either."

"Does it matter that I don't have magic?"

Loki supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that she would approach this with a blasé attitude, but he was anyway. And maybe a little irritated, truth be told. If the woman had to have magic as well, did that mean she would cheerfully push him at Wanda?

Natasha didn't seem to notice that he was put off by the question, and simply looked at him expectantly, waiting for answer. "Would I ruin your spell?" she asked.

"I've never done that kind of magic before."

She looked at him in surprise. "Never?"

"It was not a topic for polite conversation."

"But somehow blood, murder and genocide are?"

"You've never been to Asgard," Loki replied blandly.

"Point," Natasha allowed with a nod. "So you don't know if my assistance would help or not."

Though he pained him to admit it, he nodded slowly. "It is not exactly a common practice."

Her faint smile was amused as she took his hand in hers. "I suppose we'll find out, then."

"You don't mind?"

Natasha snorted. "Loki, we've had sex before for all sorts of reasons. We're going to have sex again. So why not to try magic?"

The answer bothered him, and he frowned at her as he pulled his hand away. "I see."

She gave him a long look, lips pressed together. "You wanted me to be shocked, didn't you? Or fall all over myself with a declaration of love?"

"It might help," he said, standing and trying not to sulk. "This is a difficult request."

Holding herself very still, Natasha simply stared at him. "Do you want me to act terrified of you? Of what magic can do? Do you want me to say that I'm scared out of my mind?"

"I want _something!"_ he hissed, surprising himself with how much emotion bled through. "I know what I feel is more than you do, but it doesn't make it any easier to keep seeing it thrown in my face."

Closing her eyes, she let out a slow breath. "I don't know magic. I don't know what you did to me when you sent me back. I don't know how to help you with this." She opened her eyes and looked at him evenly, no trace of fear in her eyes. "I don't know what else you want from me. I never made promises I couldn't keep, Loki. I never lied to you. I trust you."

He wanted her to love him. He wanted her to _need_ him. He wanted to be the center of her universe as she had become the center of his.

It was inherently selfish and awful, but no less true.

"I will help you however I can," Natasha continued. "But I don't know how I can. You expect me to know the same things you do, but I don't."

"Do you value what we have so little? Or do I value it too much?"

"Or maybe, I just have a different view of sex than you do. For a long time," she said slowly, holding his gaze, "my body was nothing more than a tool. For the most part, it still is. Sex is a function. It doesn't have to have meaning. It can, and it does when _I_ choose to do it for my own reasons, and not for a job."

Loki frowned at her, not quite comprehending what she was saying. "It is a sacred act of union on Asgard, not some petty trinket to throw away."

"So that's what this is about," Natasha murmured. "I accept that you need the energy for a spell, and it bothers you that I do. I should be protesting that what we have is special, that we can't use sex that way."

He pressed his lips together unhappily, but jerked his chin in an awkward nod. "This is so."

"I'm different than that, Loki," Natasha said quietly. "I never had that luxury growing up. I had nothing special like that." She tapped her temple. "Not even my memories."

That bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Oh, he had considered her little more than a tool when he had first met her, when he had first yanked her to walk Yggdrasil with him. But to hear her consider herself that way? To hear that she had no concept of herself as truly sacred? She had her sense of worth in a way that he never did, but this was... horrible, in a way. She knew her value as a measure of skill and usefulness, as accounting and ledgers that had to be balanced. It made sense now why she would offer herself to him, why she understood the emptiness inside of him.

She had one of her own, but wasn't bothered by it.

Natasha tugged him closer to her. "We're just different, Loki. I can be what you need, but not magical," she said quietly. It must have hurt to admit this limitation, but he felt no triumph at hearing the plainspoken words. "If I can help you with this, I will."

He caught her head and turned her face to his, so that only an inch of space was between them. It would be easy to lean in and kiss her, but he felt something akin to pity. She would never accept it, just as he would never accept hers. The realization of how alike and dissimilar they were was humbling. She might never be able to say words of abject devotion to him, but she was giving him everything she was capable of, just as he gave her everything that he was capable of.

"Then we'll find out together if you can."

***

Natasha looked at Loki with an amused smile as he set out a number of blankets on the floor of his bedroom. The corners were to be weighted down with elaborately carved silver goblets, which he had further inscribed with various runes around the rim. Each were filled with spiced mead, and he was intending to create a rough circle inside the square with the herbs he spiced the mead with. "You know," she began, eyes dancing, "I didn't think you wanted me in a more submissive role."

He glanced at her, jaw set. "That was an entirely different situation. I didn't enjoy the fact that you were on display for others to see. Or that I had to hand you over to a cruel madman."

She grinned openly at that statement, sitting crosslegged on the floor while completely naked. "I see. So madmen are okay as long as they're not cruel."

"Why do you test me so?" he snapped.

"Because if we're going to do sex magic, I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be tense or angry."

Loki blew out a breath and then sat back on his haunches. At her raised eyebrow, he took another deep breath, then let it out. "There is no protocol for this."

"I gathered."

"What I am doing makes sense, yet..."

"I trust you, Loki," she said quietly. "You know spellcraft. You can create a spell that will give you the energy you need."

"If I had the same confidence you did," Loki muttered, then bit his lip. His gaze flicked up to hers. "If I err, even the slightest, and you are harmed—"

 _"Stop,"_ she commanded. Her tone brooked no argument. "Set up the circle, do the spell, then do me."

He blinked, then shook his head ruefully. "Not exactly a romantic proposal."

"Describes most of our relationship, doesn't it?" Natasha teased.

In spite of himself, Loki laughed. "I suppose it does."

Natasha stretched out in the center of the circle once Loki set it up. He brushed the ashes of yew branches and ash leaves onto her skin and into her hair, and then cleared out a circle in the center of her torso, right beneath her breasts. In that circle, he placed a large oval chrysoberyl that had what looked like a starburst of silver caught in its center. It was a bright canary yellow around the silver starburst, turning almost greenish-yellow at the edges. He carefully stepped outside of the circle, then removed his clothing, one piece at a time, folding them precisely. She didn't tease him for the fastidiousness, somehow knowing it was his way of alleviating his nervousness. Or perhaps it was all part of the spell.

Back inside the circle, Loki opened his hands, palms up to the ceiling. Green fire leapt up from his palms, and the mead in turn caught fire. He closed his fingers into his palm, murmuring something in that sing-song meter that he had been teaching Wanda, his eyes locked on the chrysoberyl at the center of Natasha's chest.

With an eerie grace, Loki knelt beside Natasha and brought his hand between her legs. He looked at her then, his expression one of longing and desperate fear. She couldn't move during this ritual, not without risking shifting the ashes on her skin and hair, so all she could do was smile encouragingly and slightly shift her thighs a little wider apart. He nodded, the corner of his mouth ticking up, and then slid his fingers right up against her exposed flesh. She remained very still as he traced the folds and rubbed her clit, gradually drawing her desire. Smirking a bit, he brought his other hand to her breasts, and rubbed her nipple gently. He was sure not to disturb the ash layer, and the gentle motion still made her breath catch.

Every touch was reverent and careful, accompanied by the _galdr._ Natasha could feel the chrysoberyl on her chest grow warm as her pulse picked up. Loki's fingers kept a steady rhythm, and she gradually widened her legs so he could have better access. His mouth quirked as he chanted, not missing a single syllable. Natasha gasped as he slid two fingers into her, thumb hitting her clit with ever deep stroke inside of her. She kept still, breath shallow and body tense, and he was soon outright grinning at her.

The chrysoberyl started to glow when she came without a twitch or shiver. She could see the pride in his eyes, both at making her come and for the fact that she remembered the importance in keeping still for this part of his ritual. The ash didn't fall off her body, at least, and the warmth on her chest seemed almost comfortable, rather like a warm bath. Natasha closed her eyes, letting the sensation flow through her, feeling as though her bones were melting.

Just when the chrysoberyl's heat turned uncomfortable, Loki withdrew his fingers. Natasha's eyes shot open, and she frowned at him in confusion. She wasn't so uncomfortable that she would risk ruining the spell, but she was fairly sure that Loki wasn't done with her yet. He was rather pompous about the fact that he could coax multiple orgasms from her, and she chose not to tell him that she could also fake it rather convincingly. That would be a devastating blow to his ego, even if she had never had to fake an orgasm with him.

He repositioned himself and lifted her legs up. The ash was caked onto her skin now, not flaky and dry but almost like a white plaster. His gaze was dark and needy, desire and worry warring with each other. That didn't stop him from fucking into her, hard and deep, the _galdr_ slipping into outright guttural moans. Natasha bit her lip to keep from uttering any sounds, even a delighted moan, and kept her gaze locked on him. She tightened her inner muscles, liking the feel of his cock slick and sliding inside her.

Loki _howled,_ and the scar on his palm and forearm suddenly burst into brilliant white light, blindingly bright. The chrysoberyl on her chest in that same instant flared to life, now bright and brilliant green, the silver star now golden yellow. Its heat was too much to bear, and Natasha was close to screaming in pain.

She opened her mouth, and Loki's expression was one of terror.

 _I have to scream,_ she thought, the fire burning through her sternum. _I have to—_

***

Natasha looked around her, aware that she was dressed in something like a Victorian nightgown. She couldn't feel anything underneath the thick silk of the gown, and she wasn't even wearing socks or boots. Under her feet was the rough texture of bark, and all around her was a vast black nothingness; not even distant stars peppered the sky. Beside her was Loki, naked and blue, red eyes looking at her in fear and misery.

Taking hold of his hand, she quirked a smile. "So. I get clothes and you don't? Interesting."

Loki scowled at her and curled his fingers. The _seidr_ didn't work quite right, and fizzled even as he tried to craft a piece of clothing. His scowl deepened at her laughter, but he allowed her to drag him forward. At least, in the direction they were facing; with no visible walkway, no directions or indication of others there, it was impossible to tell which way was correct. Natasha didn't know why she felt that it was the right path, but she didn't feel lost walking it.

"Why are we going this way?" he asked after a moment, sounding put out and irritated.

"Feels like the right way to go," she replied with a shrug. "Can't you tell?"

"No," he replied shortly.

Natasha stopped and turned to look at Loki. "What? What is it?"

"If I'm the one to save Yggdrasil," he said in clipped tones, "why are you the one in questor's robes?" His eyes narrowed. "You don't have magic, and you didn't guide us here. Why do you have the means to find the path?"

She let out a slow breath. "I didn't think of this as questor's robes. Looked like a nightgown to me. The high neck, long length, long sleeves, poof and frills..." Her voice trailed off. "That's not what you see."

"That is what I see," Loki said, turning away from her uneasily. "But those who wear such things are at the beginning of learning magic. They have a sacred trust, and will be tested."

"I don't have magic."

"I know."

The slight slump of his shoulders, the heavy tone of voice... It spoke of grief.

Reaching for him, Natasha rested her hand on his arm. "I'm a sacrifice, aren't I?"

"I already sacrificed you," Loki said, not turning around. "I sent you home. I didn't change your fate. I left you as you were, untouched by my hands." She could hear his swallow, could feel the tension in the muscle beneath her fingertips.

"And you can't do it again."

"But you would," Loki said, turning to face her, red eyes blazing. "With no thought of yourself, because it would be the right thing to do."

"The math—"

"There is no math!" Loki shouted, grasping her arms. "There is no accounting! One life, a hundred, a thousand, a million, it doesn't matter! Your life means more to me than all the realms of Yggdrasil! Without you here there is no point!"

"And this is why you both had to be here," came a voice behind them. It drifted through the blank and empty Void around them, a resonant trio of voices overlaid into a single one. "Loki, who holds magic and the sheer perverse will to change the shape of fate and time. And Natasha, the mortal woman who somehow took hold of his heart and serves as his moral yardstick." The voice sounded fond and affectionate, and Natasha thought she could feel fingers combing through her hair, the way a mother might unsnarl a tangle.

"There would be a battle at the end of life and time—" Loki began, eyes and teeth flashing.

"No," the voice said simply.

As if merely stepping out of shadows, a woman came forward. Her features were blurred, shifting in and out, hair looking white or white-blonde or even golden as it danced around her head, drifting on a breeze that didn't exist. Her skin was bone white, nearly translucent, eyes more like gaping black holes. There was no tracery of veins, and her body was swathed in a dress-robe-nightgown like Natasha's. It was the same pure white of her skin, the folds casting no shadows, and there was no indication of feet. Her hands had impossibly long fingers to seem human, and the fingertips of both hands were touching, clasped in front of her stomach.

Natasha tilted her head as she contemplated the woman in front of her. "The Norns?" she guessed, thinking back to what Wanda and Loki had said in the past.

She smiled, lips stretching sideways. It gave her face a hinged look, as if the top could be tipped backward and Natasha could then look inside.

"Come closer, Natasha."

She was drawn forward against her will, even as Loki shouted in despair and reached to hold her still. She was floating, her entire body held rigid. In spite of this, she held no fear.

The woman smiled even wider, and the hinged mouth seemed to be full of small, needle-like teeth. Natasha could almost make out the shimmer of stars in the backs of her eyes. She didn't say anything, not sure if there was anything to say. This didn't seem to be like the Norns that Wanda and Loki had described, and she certainly didn't respond to the question. Her attitude was far more malevolent, though Natasha felt _stuck,_ unable to move from the track that the woman's magic had set her on. As Natasha got within arm's length, the woman's elongated fingers reached up, unerringly touching the place where the chrysoberyl had been on her chest during the ritual sex.

"Thank you for the gift," the woman said. Her voice was the rasp of a file over metal, grating and soft, threatening to set her teeth on edge.

Though Natasha was unable to turn her head, she heard Loki's choking sound. He must have been livid with rage as he watched helplessly. The woman drew the chrysoberyl out of Natasha's sternum, and it glowed with a bright gold-green color.

"You're welcome," Natasha said, managing to spit the syllables out.

The woman's fingers closed around the gem, and she blinked owlishly at her. "You are speaking." The smile drew inward, lips pulling in from the sides of her face to about the size of a dime. She didn't seem pleased at all. "You are to be the heart and the morality, not the will. You are not what had been planned."

Natasha couldn't help but laugh, which seemed to irritate the woman and make Loki mewl in despair. "I get that a lot."

"You don't fear me."

"Are you death?"

"One iteration of it."

"Ah. Well, in that case, no, I don't fear you," Natasha said. She found that she could shrug, which made the woman in front of her frown more deeply.

"Most fear me. Loki does."

"He doesn't understand you, does he?"

The woman backed up a step, and her voice lost its trio of cadences. Now she had a single voice as she told Natasha "No, he doesn't."

"That stone," Natasha began in a gentle tone. "What does it do?"

The brilliant light of the gem was caught in the woman's hands, and she delicately opened her spindly fingers. "It can do many things, depending on the wishes of the owners. You can use it as a beacon, to draw others to you. Or as a replacement soul."

"A replacement soul," Natasha echoed, feeling a chill run through her spine.

Now the woman smiled at her, faintly. "I am related to the Norns. Their forgotten sister. For someone must lead the souls to Helheim, or give shape to the weavings that they create. The shadow between the threads."

"Not one of Those Who Sit Above, or whatever their names are?"

Blinking, the woman's head tilted to the side. "Those Who Sit Above In Shadows. Not of my ilk, not my crafting. Outside of these realms, outside the reach of Yggdrasil. My power lies within these nine realms alone." She brought the stone up to her lips and let her tongue slip out and taste it. The move reminded Natasha of a cat lapping at a saucer of milk.

"What does that taste like?" she asked curiously.

"A replacement soul, you mean?" At Natasha's nod, she pondered that. "It nourishes. There is no taste. There is only being."

"It's magic, then."

"Different magicks. From different worlds. Unfamiliar, too. It is most peculiar." She turned and looked at Loki, and let one hand rise up to draw Loki forward against his will. "You. Frost Giant and Asgardian, on Midgard. You've traveled beyond Yggdrasil and through it, and this stone carries the essence of all of it and none."

Loki glared at her, teeth grit inside of his mouth, jaw set so tight that Natasha could see the muscles jumping in his neck.

"Give me Those Who Sit Above In Shadows," the woman demanded, the stars in the black pools of her eyes flaring as bright as his scars did. Her voice seemed to split into the trio again. "They long escaped our grasp, and are such that we cannot attack directly."

"You are the dark of the Norns," Loki said finally. "The reverse image of their power. Tales don't often speak of you."

"Bright boy," the woman said, lips stretching sideways into that eerie smile again. "As you are the inverse of your brother, I am the inverse of the Norns. I carry no name, only function. I have no whispers, no prayers, no song."

"Keep the stone," Natasha found herself saying. It was an impulse she didn't understand, but seemed to make sense. "It was made out of magic, power, song and love."

Loki turned to gape at Natasha, but she was staring at the strange woman.

The woman began to laugh, and then shoved the stone back into Natasha's chest. "I will accept your gift when you are done with it."

"But—"

"No," the woman said, voice gentle yet demanding at the same time. Natasha couldn't help but gasp as the stone burned and burrowed its way into her sternum. "You have need of this right now. I appreciate the gesture, Natalia Alianovna Romanova. You truly are his heart. You understand more than you think you do."

She leaned forward and kissed Natasha's forehead, then turned to kiss Loki's. "Care for her, little giant. If you don't, you will be truly lost."

And then they both woke inside the herb circle, the fires burned out of the chalices.

Natasha gasped, feeling a sharp pain in her chest, right where the stone had been lying. It was missing, but there was a mark on her skin not unlike the star shape that had been in the center of the stone. Unlike Loki's scar, it wasn't raised like a welt, but simply a discoloration. Touching it gently with her fingertip, she could feel warmth pulse beneath it.

She started a little when Loki's hand came to cover hers; his skin was still blue and his eyes were red. The raised swirls in his skin seemed to be almost like runes themselves. "Is this how we face Those Who Sit Above In Shadow? Is this how we stop Ragnarok?"

In a mournful tone of voice, Loki whispered "You have magic now. You'll come to their notice."

Wrapping her arms around him, Natasha let out a breath. "Then you and Wanda better teach me how to use this before it's too late."

***

If Wanda was startled by Loki in his frost giant form, she kept her thoughts to herself. He was unable to return to the Asgardian appearance, and that set him on edge. "What if you gave it up in your spell?" Natasha pointed out. "Your magic was a greenish gold. Wanda's is red." She lifted her fingers and a golden light seemed to curl around her fingers. "But now you have pure green magic, and mine is gold."

The rest of the Avengers may have gaped, but they said nothing at first. Thor openly gaped, but didn't say a word. After one too many challenging glares Loki sent them, Sam finally threw up his hands. "Man, you want to pick a fight about this? C'mon, you're an alien. So what? You're blue. Want me to call you a giant Smurf or something?"

Clint and his children sputtered with laughter, nearly making Loki apoplectic with rage. Laura simply shook her head. "Of course not, Sam," she said. It was the same tone she often took with Cooper. "Smurfs are little and go berry picking."

Lila had no fear at all, even with Loki's glower, and came over to touch the raised skin patterns on Loki's face and arms. "They're like vines," she said, grinning at him. "You know, that climb up a trellis. Is that where you keep your magic?"

Loki blinked and seemed to unwind a bit. "It doesn't trouble you?"

"Well, I'm not used to you being blue. But there's mutants in New York City, and some of 'em have blue skin, too. But Dad and Sam said you're an alien. So it makes sense you'd look different," she said with the same patient tone Laura had. "Now you're comfy with us here and you don't have to put on a human face, right?"

"Uh. It wasn't quite like that..."

"But is that where you keep your magic?"

"I don't believe anyone studied Jotnar to see where their magic rested. Most believed it to be evil." His voice was tight, and the adults were a bit wary of his response.

"Oh. It's like all the fairy tales, then?" At his blank look, she shrugged. "Well, they say there's good magic and bad magic in fairy tales, but it's really how it gets used, if you think about it. I mean, yes, Sleeping Beauty had to sleep for a hundred years, but she didn't die and she met her true love. So it's not all bad."

Cooper made gagging noises and Nathaniel poked him with his foot. "Finish reading the story!" the boy hissed, pointing at the large book in Cooper's lap. It was a book of fairy tales, which was likely why it had come to Lila's mind so quickly.

"I think it might be similar to that," Natasha agreed with Lila. "Magic is just magic. It's what you choose to do with it that matters."

Lila had the same smile on her face and went back to where her brothers were sitting in the common room. She snatched up the book from Cooper and stuck her tongue out at him. "I'll read to you, Nate," she told her younger brother. "He's being a doofus."

"Hey!" Cooper cried, reaching for the book. Lila leaned away from him, crowding into Nathaniel, who started shoving back.

With a practiced sigh, Laura got up and took the book from Lila. "My turn to read," she said simply. Nathaniel happily got out from under Lila and went to his mother's side. "You two," she said sternly to her older children, "do your reading in the den. _Separate_ desks."

Clint only chuckled at Loki's bewildered expression. "Man, you never had a normal experience if you think that's weird." He only laughed harder when Natasha and Laura both reached over to smack his shoulder.

"So if there's three of you able to do magic," Steve said, firmly steering them back to topic. "Maybe more if you can find any other practitioners that can work these spells. Will we be able to stop Ragnarok?"

Loki had almost expected them to ask _how_ he had gotten Natasha the ability to cast spells, but apparently it didn't matter to them. That was a surprise he wasn't entirely sure how to deal with. How did it not matter to these mortals how a being acquired magic? Didn't they care about what arcane thing he had to do? Didn't they guess it would have to be unspeakable, and some kind of depraved act?

But he would never put Natasha at risk, even for the sake of all nine realms, and they all knew that. Perhaps that was why it didn't matter about the _how._ They all knew the _why,_ and accepted without question that he would help them without eventually turning on them.

He was trusted. He was _worthy._

The fear and indecision eased a little, and he actually smiled at Steve. "Wanda will tear apart the fabric of time and space. The rest of us will do battle."

Thor lifted Mjolnir with an eager grin. "Finally!"

***  
***


	3. The End Is The Beginning Is The End

Natasha trained in all of the spells that Loki and Wanda saw fit to teach her. The more abstract spells and magicks were more difficult to cast, likely because of her background in spycraft. She was gifted in languages, computers, hand to hand combat and weaponry. While she could intuit much, those spells were relatively feeble compared to Wanda's. Loki patted her arm gently as if to console her, but Natasha shrugged. "I've had magic for what? A day? I don't expect to be a prodigy at magic. Give me firearms, and that would work for me."

Wanda brightened. "What about magical versions?"

Loki blinked. "Like creating energy blades?"

Clint snickered in the background; the three of them looked up and found him perched on top of a row of bookcases. "I think you found the perfect match. Make some magical throwing knives or arrows..."

"You're the archer," Natasha replied with a smirk. "I'll stick with knives and ballistics."

"Why are you even here?" Loki asked Clint irritably.

"Because the thought of Nat doing magic? More fun than keeping Nathaniel from driving Lila and Cooper crazy," he replied with a grin.

Wanda snorted. "I didn't think you were a coward."

"It's not cowardice, it's pragmatism." He shot her a cocky grin, making her laugh. "And Nat's the same way, you know. So this woo-woo stuff you're trying to do? Not her style."

"So we go with concrete things," Wanda agreed.

"I think I'll stay and watch the show," Clint announced from his perch.

"Can't get down here, can you?" Natasha snarked at him. He shot her the finger in reply, and settled back in to watch them. With his dark clothing, he was rather nondescript. Perfect for a sniper and spy, and Loki wanted to kick himself for not noticing him sooner. Or thinking about Natasha's strengths. She wouldn't be able to attack Those Who Sit Above In Shadow on their terms. She would have to do it on hers.

Natasha's training turned more concrete, focusing on creating energy blasts, shields, whips and lances. Clint apparently texted Steve, Sam and Thor, inviting them to Wanda's training hall. Thor was delighted to try smashing Mjolnir into one of Natasha's energy shields, or try batting aside her whips and lances. "It carries the energies of all the mighty weapons of Asgard," he declared with a grin. "It would be good to request the Warriors Three and Sif to join us in this quest. They would be affected by those foul threads, after all."

"If they're available," Wanda began slowly, thinking aloud, "then that gives us a little more flexibility in the planning. They're going to be like other Asgardians, so they'll want to do a more frontal assault. That leaves Natasha attacking from the shadows."

"And you two?" Natasha asked, eyebrow lofted.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you left out yourself and Loki."

"Oh. Not Asgardian anymore?" Wanda asked, looking at Loki with her head tilted thoughtfully. "I suppose I always thought of you that way."

"I have not in some time," Loki said, syllables ponderous and distant. He didn't even blink when Natasha laid a hand on his arm in gentle support.

"Well. Your runes are going to hurt them _a lot._ I thought you were going to lead the charge," Wanda said, biting her lip.

"Me. Lead," Loki said, staring at her.

"Thor all but said you should be in charge," she pointed out. Loki looked to Natasha, who merely shrugged at him with a wry smile on her lips. "And if your runes are able to really hurt them, then whatever magic weapons the others can use would have more of an effect."

"But then what about you, little witch?" Loki asked, something in his expression softening. "Your magical combat skills are not up to their level."

Wanda's lips twisted in a parody of a smile. "Someone has to rip apart the fabric of time and space. Apparently, it's what I'm good at."

"Think us mere mortals that can't use magic can do something?" Clint called from his perch in the uncomfortable silence.

"Given that Those Who Sit Above In Shadows have a lot of minions at their beck and call," Wanda said with a faint smile, "I think there will be plenty for the rest of you to do."

Clint grinned at her unease. "See? I knew there was a reason why I came out of retirement. Now, ripping apart the fabric of reality is going to be a messy proposition. Why don't I confer with the others and see where in the world we should go to do this? Fewer bystanders to get hurt that way," he added when Wanda startled. Loki was indifferent to the task and Natasha nodded encouragingly at him.

"There will be certain features we will need to ease the transition," Wanda interrupted.

"Ley lines and whatnot?" Clint asked. Wanda blinked at him in surprise. "Yeah. Us mere mortals can read between the lines of fairy tales pretty well." He twisted his body and arced off of the shelving to land on his feet. "Dunno how you'll find them, but if there's a way to figure it out, then we can compute the location that meets your criteria that has the least amount of risk. No point in saving the world if demons are going to kill everyone in it, right?"

Natasha smirked. "Too bad we can't just use an empty death realm."

Loki looked between the two of them in surprise. "But we can."

Now the three of them gaped at him. "What?"

"There are realms that are all but dead. Jotunheim, Svartalfheim, Muspelheim... Any of the branches of Yggdrasil may be the site for battle, not just Midgard. Those Who Sit Above In Shadows are leaching the life from the Tree and all of its inhabitants. It doesn't matter which realm we are present in to attack them."

When Loki described the realms, Wanda stopped him at the description of Muspelheim. "That one," she said decisively. "My vision had a fire demon in it."

"You think to seek the aid of such remaining creatures?" Loki scoffed. "The land itself would be too hot for any of you."

"Spellwork," Wanda said firmly. "You work on the battle magic, I'll do the behind the scenes work and reality shifting. I can alter your _spá_ enough to render all of you immune to the fires of Muspelheim. But I need to find those demons," she insisted.

The statement didn't leave Loki visibly shaken, but Natasha took his hand and squeezed it tightly just the same. "Then let us prepare, little witch," Loki said softly. "For Death is coming, and we will fill the halls of Valhalla."

***

Even though Wanda couldn't see the thread from Those Who Sit Above In Shadows, Loki still could. He snapped it between his fingers as he had for himself and Thor, managing not to laugh when the mighty Warriors Three fell to their knees. Sif swayed a little and looked ill. Some of the Asgardian Einherjar had been selected to accompany the Warriors Three to fight in Asgard's name, and they didn't fare as well either. Reweaving the _spá_ for everyone in the training facility was easier than Wanda thought it would be.

"Careful, little witch," Loki murmured away from others' hearing. "The ease you do this kind of magic is unnatural, even in our kind. The Norns have plans for you and this ability, and I question the gift they give you."

"You think it's dangerous."

"I _know_ it is. That doesn't mean you shouldn't practice or use it, but practice more caution than normal." Loki grimaced and showed her the scars on his left hand and forearm, the _sól_ and doubled _sól,_ eyes boring into hers. "But every weapon has its cost. The price of wielding the _spá_ so easily might be more than you can bear."

"Perhaps it being so easy is because I could create a child."

Loki gave her a wan smile, something that didn't seem to sit right on his face. It wasn't the blue skin or red eyes, the raised patterns in his flesh. After a moment, Wanda realized what bothered her about his expression.

Jealousy. Not the livid, vengeful kind, but the quiet and hopeless kind. It was as if the Loki he had been before destroying the tie to Those Who Sit Above In Shadows was an entirely different creature from what he was now. Or that he lost some of himself in giving Natasha magic.

Wanda took Loki's hand in both of hers and rubbed the back of it gently. "I have your teachings to guide me, Loki. When I think I'm ready, I'm coming to you for advice."

"Advice from a monster?" he scoffed, the bitterness sounding old and worn thin.

"Advice from a mentor," Wanda corrected softly. "To prevent me from being a monster, from letting the magic take over my mind. That's what you fear, isn't it? That the pull of magic would erase my humanity?"

"It could happen," Loki allowed. He was very still. "Exposure to such things could be enough to damage the essence of you."

Natasha. He was worried about Natasha and what having magic would mean for her, however temporary it would be. She wasn't naturally a practitioner, wasn't usually the kind that could weave spells in and around reality. Would it change who she was?

"We'll have much to talk about when the loom of fate is repaired," Wanda promised. She flashed him a cheeky smile. "Now, are we ready to go break it?"

***

Muspelheim glowed from the fires and lava pits. Fire demons stalked the realm, and eyed the strangers with mistrust. Wanda led the way, buoyed by her vision. Though it wasn't exactly the same, she could feel the pull of magic. Natasha was at her side, carrying a silver athame carved with Asgardian runes, the hilt made of ivory and a large beveled ruby. The knife sat comfortably in her hand, and her eyes scanned the horizon with deadly intent. "I feel something," she said in a low tone. "Like a tugging in my chest."

Natasha was in her usual Black Widow catsuit, but the zipper was pulled down to reveal the star shaped discoloration on her chest that the crhysoberyl had given her. It didn't glow, exactly, but seemed to have an eerie shine to it in the ruddy Muspelheim light.

"I think we're following the same path."

"Was walking Yggdrasil like this for you?" she asked after a moment.

Thinking about it, Wanda finally nodded. "As difficult and easy as following my heart."

She nodded slowly, and didn't turn around to look for Loki behind them. "Apparently, I'm a heart," she said slowly. "Is that why I was given a knife with a ruby?"

Wanda smiled at her. "You know it's a stone for healing, wisdom and strength." Natasha nodded at her. "Well, it's also used in love spells."

Natasha let out an impatient breath. "I don't have time for that kind of thing."

"No, I don't think you do," Wanda replied with an easy smile. "But it connects you to Loki. He gave you that so that you could draw on his magic if you need to. And he can find you anywhere in this realm, as long as you have it with you."

"Well, why didn't he tell me that?"

"Maybe he figured you'd understand it."

"Magic is so not my thing," Natasha grumbled. "Give me a firefight and hacking against a clock any day," she added, making Wanda laugh.

They continued on a few more feet, but then Wanda abruptly stopped. "You feel that?"

 _"Get down!"_ Loki screamed behind them.

Fire erupted in a geyser in front of them, the sprays of lava about to splash down over them. As quickly as Natasha could normally pull and fire a pistol, she spread her hands and generated the energy necessary to create an energy shield to prevent the lava from hitting them. While they could survive the heat and fumes, no one wanted to test the theory of surviving lava immersion, and their gear certainly wouldn't survive that.

A creature of fire and lava rose up from the ground, dark slits for eyes staring down at the two women in irritation. It was the same looming shape from Wanda's vision, the creature of fire that had obliterated her sight. As she had in the vision, she stretched her hand upward toward it, a smile on her face. "I greet you, brother," she said in the old tongue of the Rom, words she wasn't sure that it would understand. But this felt right, in the way that Sokovian, Russian, English or German wouldn't have. It felt more like the language of magic, the thing that would best give her a connection to the people of Muspelheim.

The creature took her hand in a delicate gesture, bowing its head slightly. She would have burned to cinders if not for the alterations in her _spá,_ and the fact that she could resist the creature's touch seemed to leave it impressed. Just as in her vision, its mouth pulled back into something like a smile of recognition. "Would you be a sister to me, then?" it replied in the same language Wanda had used.

Not exactly like her vision, but her scrying wasn't perfected yet. She had still seen enough to be prepared for this meeting.

"If you would like," she said, still using the most respectful cadence of Rom. "I had a brother once. He ran faster than the wind, faster than fire."

The creature shifted its size to match theirs, which only seemed to make its heat and light even more intense. "You still grieve."

"Sometimes I do," Wanda admitted.

"What of your companions?" the creature asked, letting go of her hand and looking over the others doubtfully.

"We're working on a quest," Wanda told it, not sure how else to describe the situation. That seemed to make it more interested in them, so she lifted her chin. "Those Who Sit Above In Shadows had marked those with magic on different realms, absorbing their magic and lives. It..." She paused, frowning a bit as she tried to remember the Rom words. "They're eating us," she said finally, spreading her hands in a helpless gesture.

That seemed to make the creature angry. "What? But there are rules for this! Those with thoughts and sentience should be left alone!"

"That's what we hope to tell them."

"Then I will aid you, sister," the creature declared, expanding to its full size once again. "And my brethren will follow you to these foul beings, burn them to cinders and ash."

"Thank you," she said in Rom, bowing respectfully. She turned and saw the anxious and expectant expressions on the others' faces. "Who wants to lead an army of fire demons from Muspelheim?" she asked brightly in English. "They'll help us."

Most of the others looked dumbfounded, but Natasha snickered. "I almost feel sorry for Those Who Sit Above In Shadows. Almost."

***

Wanda cut apart the Web of Fate, following Loki's directions. She couldn't see the actual loom that the Norns used, but she could feel the sense of it. It was like the dreams and walking Yggdrasil, a pull behind her breastbone and a pressure between her ears as if she was trying to find equilibrium between realms. A swift glance at Natasha showed Natasha that she felt it as well, though she had even less understanding of what it meant.

She closed her eyes and lost herself in the feel of the magic, the weaving of the substance of time and space. There was something lurking between the strands, a presence that wasn't malevolent or beneficent. It simply was, waiting patiently in the emptiness.

As her red magic curled around her hands and drifted outward from her body, a rift began to open in front of them, separating time and space. Though they hadn't coordinated their actions ahead of time, Loki lifted his left arm and removed the gauntlet and bracer he usually wore. The scars shone livid on his blue skin, a difference in the pattern of raised flesh. He took a breath, still looking calm despite the fact that he had earlier said he felt vaguely ill on Muspelheim, and then began to sing the _galdr_ to open his scars.

Light poured through as his skin split apart, shining into the darkness between the visible strands of red thread in Wanda's rift. The rift seemed to grow wider and wider, encompassing all of reality around them. It was dark, a vast emptiness with no indication of up, down, sideways or through; all of Muspelheim seemed to fade away as the darkness obliterated everything.

"What is this sorcery?" Thor demanded, lifting Mjolnir.

Natasha held the athame in her grip and looked around. "Where did Wanda go?"

The creature that had talked to Wanda in that strange language said something that no one else was able to understand; it was odd that the Allspeak couldn't translate her words. Perhaps the language was older than Allspeak, the true language of magic.

"It matters not," Sif said sharply, cutting off Thor's reply. "Now demons come for us."

There was a difference in the darkness above them, however "above" could be determined. They were standing on nothing, but could still move through it. Over their heads, the darkness seemed to be even deeper, with the impression of eyes and hungry mouths salivating at the sight of them all standing there.

"Those Who Sit Above In Shadows!" Loki boomed, turning his left arm toward them. The brilliant light spilling out of him seemed to slice through the darkness like a blade.

Inhuman howls resounded through the nothingness, sending the Midgardians sprawling and the Asgardians to their knees. Loki had to step back to regain his balance, and the fiery demons of Muspelheim only seemed to burn brighter in determination. He couldn't afford to look back at Natasha, to see if she was among those sprawled on the nonexistent ground, if she was harmed in any way by the sound. He had to think _She has magic_ repeatedly, and he had been able to bear the burden of the howling blast.

Sif had been correct; Those Who Sit Above In Shadows sent demonic minions through the rift, some with elemental powers. The demons of Muspelheim easily attacked those with water or earth talents. Clouds of steam and bursts of flame arose from each strike, leaving the Asgardians and Avengers cloaked in mist and shadows.

The Einherjar and Avengers moved into the Void, prepared to do battle. The other minions of Those Who Sit Above In Shadows carried edged weapons that looked like scythes and swords made of bone or a type of black metal. The fiery Muspelheim demons easily lit the darkness, allowing the others to move in and strike, smashing the minions or deflecting blows. Steve's shield ricocheted past one cluster of minions to knock over another, and Thor easily knocked over quite a few with his hammer. Vision became intangible or tangible during his combat, using the Mind Stone to create bright bolts of energy to annihilate minions attacking him. Rhodey destroyed a number of them with rockets. Clint had explosive and concussive arrows, which knocked minions into Sam's pistol range or the sword reach of the Einherjar. The Warriors Three and Sif chased down the errant minions, working in concert to keep them from calling for more reinforcements.

Behind Those Who Sit Above In Shadows, Loki saw something that almost looked like the Norns' loom. Edging closer to the contraption, he saw that within it was a tiny red creature; it was Wanda, and she seemed nearly ready to fall out of the loom. He moved closer to it, sensing that the deep shadowy figures of Those Who Sit Above In Shadows were looking to distract themselves with sport. His blinding light kept them at bay, but turning his back to any of them would be a deadly mistake. He couldn't help her, not when his light was the only weapon preventing Those Who Sit Above In Shadows from approaching the loom.

Natasha seemed to sense his dilemma, and threw her athame right between the eyes of one of Those Who Sit Above In Shadows. It snarled and howled, more of the nameless demon minions spilling force between the realms. Ignoring them, Natasha slid between between them and Loki, pulling apart the threads with her bare hands, ignoring the burning of her palms and the pain it generated. "Come on, hurry!" she hissed at Wanda.

Wanda pushed through the loom, heading toward the impossibly large image of Natasha in front of her. The chrysoberyl star on her chest glowed as bright as the North Star, leading her out of the maze of red threads that threatened to cut her to pieces. It was a bright, golden light, giving her hair the look of fire and the sensation that she was lit up from the inside out. Wanda moved through the loom, ignoring the cuts and scrapes as she pushed the threads.

Blood slid from Natasha's palms as she pulled on the threads, sharp as any concertina wire. She grit her teeth and snarled in Russian, the golden glow briefly dimming when her grip slipped and she nearly lost the threads in her hand. But she swallowed down the pain and hissed at Wanda again, seeing her struggle through the maze of threads. "Break them if you have to!" she snapped at her. "You can't get left behind!"

With a frightened scream, Wanda stumbled forward through the hole in the loom that Natasha held open for her. As she tumbled through it, she grew to normal size, her red leather and silk clothes cut to ribbons. Natasha stumbled back from the loom, her hands sliced to the bones and tendons, glow fading. She cradled her hands to her chest, eyes wide and just as frightened as Wanda's when she looked up.

Magic always had a cost. Always.

Loki edged around the loom, not daring to take his eyes off of Those Who Sit Above In Shadows. They were tricky, and clever in ways that they had yet to understand. He didn't trust them not to do further harm, to do something terrible; he couldn't look at Wanda and Natasha, couldn't see what it cost to get Wanda out of the loom. The frightened cries had turned something in his gut to ice, and his chest felt hollow and painful.

The light couldn't falter, he knew that much. He couldn't let it dim as he turned in a circle; it was the one thing keeping Those Who Sit Above In Shadows from attacking them directly, and Loki had the feeling that they would never be able to survive the onslaught.

Thor was trying to approach, hiding in the shadows left behind by the light of Loki's _sól._ As much as Thor relied on Mjolnir in hand, this wasn't the kind of battle that Thor could beat down to death. He opened his mouth to hiss at him, using Old Asgardian so he wouldn't confuse the other Asgardians.

True to form, Thor ignored his warning and continued on his way.

Anger rose, sharp and nearly blinding. He had loved Thor as a brother, as the dearest of friends, as the bright and shining hope of Asgard. Maybe that love was gone and his monstrous nature would never allow such a thing to bloom again. But Those Who Sit Above In Shadows couldn't get their hold on him, not after all the pains he had taken to break it in the first place.

"You ignorant fool!" Loki shouted. The light from his _sól_ seemed to flare brighter, which should have been a warning to stay away. "Back away! You have to avoid being marked by Them again!"

That seemed to get through to him, because Thor paused and didn't come any closer. He swung his mighty hammer in a circle, knocking aside one of the minions that Loki had inadvertently drawn the attention of.

He grinned at Loki. "Perhaps we are brothers in arms still," he said fondly.

Before Loki could ask what he meant by that, Thor simply threw Mjolnir. His aim was true, as the magic of the hammer always was, breaking the loom.

The unearthly howl from Those Who Sit Above In Shadows was enough to shake the Void that they were all in.

With the ties broken, the light from Loki's _sól_ scars burned even brighter. He shook with the force of it, and saw that the broken pieces of the loom caught on fire.

The fiery creatures of Muspelheim cheered, and headed for the demonic minions that the Asgardians were holding at bay. Without the feedback of Asgardian energy, it was like bringing a match to tinder. Every last one lit up in flames, bringing light to the Void that resembled Muspelheim itself. They hooted and hollered, the living creatures of flame and lava, and they seemed to swim through the darkness toward Those Who Sit Above In Shadows. Cheering along with them, the Asgardians mimicked the swimming motions to start to hack and carve at Those Who Sit Above In Shadows.

The deeper darkness above them all screamed, falling to pieces and burning to ashes.

Unfortunately, that meant that there was no anchor for the Void. The entire dimension began to collapse, tremors shaking their feeble sense of up and down and sideways.

"What are we going to do now?" Natasha asked, broken hands still clutched to her chest. The golden glow within her was gone now, the chrysoberyl star on her chest pale as if it was a regular scar on her skin.

Wanda struggled to her feet. "I control the _spá."_ Her tone brooked no argument, as firm as Laura's to her children. "I got us here, I can return us."

Her bloody hands glowed even redder as her magic curled around her fingers. They looked like the red threads of the shattered loom, and then Wanda began to move her hands around in motions as if weaving.

Between the strands, the ashen plains of Muspelheim were visible. She made her motions larger and grander, widening the portal linking the Void to Muspelheim.

"Go!" Loki shouted at them. "Take them out of here, you great oaf!" he directed at Thor in particular, looking back at Natasha and Wanda.

The light of his _sól_ flickered slightly as he turned back to the ashes of the collapsing Void around them. The Warriors Three assisted Thor, and the Einherjar were helping the Avengers. With no power source to hold the Void open, it would collapse faster than they could escape through Wanda's portal.

"There is no math," he whispered, turning his back to her portal and closing his eyes.

"No, there isn't," he heard Natasha whisper in his mind. She wasn't physically there, but he could feel her approval and pride, could feel the love she could never actually voice.

Golden magic flooded him through the link he had with Natasha. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Instead, the light of the _sól_ grew more intense, as if he was a star, his energy pushing the boundaries of the Void wider and wider.

 _I did good,_ he thought, childlike wonder filling him. It was almost joy, almost contentment. _For once, I was good enough._

"Yes, you are," Natasha whispered in his mind. "I told you the Norns found you worthy."

 _Yes, Tsarina,_ he wanted to laugh. But the sheer power of the _sól_ was overwhelming, a light he never knew he could hold beneath his skin.

Blinded and burning up from the inside out, Loki gave himself over to it.

There was no math. And he had no regrets.

***

Muspelheim seemed uncomfortably bright after the Void, so Wanda started crafting the portal before a formal headcount of survivors was even complete. She knew that Natasha's hands would eventually heal, and the New Avengers facility would have the technological know-how to repair the others in little time. She was too exhausted to think and ponder what they had just done, what the fallout would be. Surely there would be time for that later.

The fiery being merely grinned at Wanda, inclining his head slightly. "I will see you again, little sister. Do not forsake our realm."

"I won't," she replied, smiling gently. She meant it, too, and could almost feel Vision agreeing with her. They could vacation in the realm, perhaps take any future children there to learn Rom and what it was like beyond the edges of earth. Any child of hers would likely be able to walk Yggdrasil, after all.

They would all be forces to be reckoned with, and all ready to defend Yggdrasil and its realms.

The End


End file.
